


An Adaar Tale

by SmokeysWife



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 06:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19987804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeysWife/pseuds/SmokeysWife
Summary: Why should Lavellan and Trevelyan get all the fun? A fluffy piece following the story of Commander Cullen Rutherford and Herah Adaar because I love this ship.The mature rating is just to be safe - no real smut I'm afraid.





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> More than a little self-indulgent, but I enjoyed writing it so hopefully you'll enjoy reading it! Some dialogue has been taken directly from in game, other bits have been tweaked to suit the story. As usual, the characters and world belong to Bioware. I just enjoy playing in their sandpit:)

Cullen tensed as the horned figure walked out of the mist, and for a moment he was transported back to Kirkwall, screams and explosions filling the air as the city burned around him.

‘Commander?’

He focused on the Seeker with an effort.

‘Lady Cassandra. I don’t know how you managed to get the rift closed but you have my thanks.’

‘That was not my doing, Commander. Thank the prisoner.’

‘The prisoner…’ He allowed his gaze to travel to the woman standing in front of him. She was as tall as he was, with skin the colour of a stormy sky. He couldn’t remember seeing a single female amongst the invasion force in Kirkwall. Odd, how he never noticed it at the time. He cleared his throat, aware that he was staring.

‘Yes, well I hope they’re right about you. We lost a lot of good men getting you here.’

If she was upset by his less than welcoming tone she didn’t show it.

‘You’re not the only one hoping that,’ she muttered as her gaze travelled along the battlefield, towards the temple. The elven apostate behind her smirked and Cullen felt a surge of irritation.

‘We’ll just have to see, won’t we?’ he said. He turned before she could meet his gaze again, not watching as Cassandra led them on, towards the breach.

Herah woke with a start, her eyes finding the warm wood of the ceiling. The bed beneath her was decidedly more comfortable than the mat they had provided in the cells, and there were no shackles on her hands or feet. So far, so good.

Pushing herself upright, she was almost as startled to see the serving girl as the elf was to see her. She couldn’t hold back the blink of surprise when the girl prostrated herself before her. Well, that was new.

Herah waited until the servant had backed out of the cabin, muttering something about the Chantry, before pushing herself out of bed. Her gaze fell on a folded set of antaam saar, and she sucked in a breath, blinking back sudden tears. Shaking fingers trailed along the familiar soft leather, crafted by her mother before she left to join the Valo-Kas. She had thought it lost in the explosion, but clearly her captors had found it on her.

Wiping her eyes, she hastily donned the light armour, skilled fingers deftly tying the complex series of knots that held the garment in place. The familiar tingle of her mother’s enchantment washed over her skin; a little piece of home.

Picking up her staff, she walked out over the threshold, coming to an abrupt halt as she saw the guards and civilians lining the street in front of her. A hush fell over the crowd at the sight of her and she swallowed hard. Biting down on her nerves, she kept her gaze straight forward as she stepped out, into Haven.

Cullen nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for the Herald with the rest of the advisors. He would be the first to admit that he probably hadn’t made the best first impression with the woman.

He looked up as the door opened and Cassandra walked in, the Herald at her heels. Adaar’s face was impassive as she looked around the room, but her violet eyes were wary. Cullen gulped as he took in the rest of her. Someone, Josephine no doubt, had found her traditional qunari attire. He glanced at the ambassador, who was doing a very poor job of hiding her appreciation of the view.

He started, aware that Cassandra had mentioned his name.

‘It was only for a moment in the field. I look forward to working with you,’ he said politely, hopefully injecting just enough warmth in his voice to mend some of the damage done by his earlier coldness. She nodded politely but her eyes lingered on him for a moment before turning her attention to Josephine, leaving Cullen even more flustered than before.


	2. Settling In

Herah took a deep lungful of air as she looked out over the mountains. No matter where she went in Haven, gazes lingered, muttered voices whispering things that were often just within earshot. It was oppressive.

‘We should keep moving, if we are to reach the Crossroads before nightfall,’ Cassandra said. Varric muttered something behind her, shifting uncomfortably on his horse and Herah bit back a smile. She glanced at Solas, who rolled his eyes, nudging his own horse into a trot. He might be a little condescending at times, but Herah couldn’t help liking the elf. The only other mage Herah had known was her mother, and it was a novelty to be able to discuss magical lore and theory with a peer. If he’d been surprised by her interest, he’d never shown it.

‘At this rate, Seeker, my sores are going to have sores,’ Varric said. Herah chuckled, having learned already that the grumbling was generally good natured.

‘Maybe we should ask Master Demet for a pony, Ser Tethras?’ she called over her shoulder. ‘It can’t be easy being so far from the ground.’

‘Oh, short jokes is it, Snowflake? It’s alright for you, if you get sore, you can just put your feet down!’

Herah let out a bark of laughter, and even Cassandra looked amused.

‘Come on,’ she said, nudging her horse into a gallop. ‘First round’s on me.’

‘Missive from the Hinterlands for you, Commander.’

Cullen dismissed the courier with a nod and scanned the note from Corporal Vale quickly. From the sounds of it, the Herald was doing everything they had asked for and more. It looked as though Adaar could add another member to her growing fan club.

He turned his attention to the second note, written in a flowing, elegant script. He raised his eyebrows as he realised it was from the woman in question, before mentally berating himself. Adaar was clearly well-educated; he shouldn’t be surprised at the quality of her penmanship.

The tone of the letter was friendly but to the point, requesting men to set up watchtowers around the farmland. He scanned the attached map and nodded thoughtfully; the locations she had highlighted were solid from a tactical viewpoint and they would help improve security against threats from the major routes through the Hinterlands.

He turned his attention back to the rest of the letter, his mouth twitching. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or irritated by her thinly veiled dig at the requisition officers, but as he read her final line querying whether he genuinely wanted her to focus her attention on gathering elfroot, he had to concede she had a point.

Pulling a piece of parchment towards him, and readying his quill, he set about sending a response.

Herah bit her lip in amusement as she finished reading Cullen’s letter. That would explain why the requisition officer at the camp had been considerably cooler towards her today. She shook her head in bewilderment; surely their entire job was to requisition what was needed? It was reassuring to have this belief confirmed, along with a reassurance that they would be doing a more thorough job going forward. She resisted a smirk as she imagined the look on Threnn’s face when she found out.

‘With all the good work you’ve been doing with the refugees, we should have enough influence now to approach the Chantry,’ Cassandra said, coming to sit beside her.

‘Do we have to?’ Herah said, jutting out her bottom lip. Varric stifled a snort with his tankard.

‘Yes.’

Herah let out a theatrical sigh.

‘Fine, but if they hang me and mount me from the centre of the square in Val Royeaux, I’m coming back to haunt you, you know.’

Cassandra let out a noise of disgust, but her lip twitched as she prodded the fire. Herah grinned and helped herself to some more mead.


	3. Commonalities

Cullen ground his teeth as he tried counting to ten for what felt like the fifteenth time. The furthest he’d reached so far was five before Roderick interrupted his train of thought. He was focused on a spot over the man’s shoulder, trying hard to tune him out, when his gaze fell on a familiar figure and he stiffened.

‘Commander,’ Adaar said, greeting him with a nod and a slight smile. He could see her quick gaze taking in the scene almost immediately, violet eyes flashing as they fell on Roderick.

‘The mages and templars are fighting even though we don’t know what happened at the temple of sacred ashes?’ she asked, interrupting Roderick mid-tirade.

‘Exactly why all this should be left to a new divine,’ Roderick said, latching onto the point. ‘If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it as so.’

‘Or will be happy to use someone as a scapegoat,’ Cullen said, his lip curling. Adaar caught his eye.

‘Well let’s hope we find solutions in Val Royeaux, and not a cathedral full of chancellors,’ she said with a wink. Cullen let out a soft snort, as Roderick turned an interesting shade of puce.

‘The stuff of nightmares!’

Adaar chuckled, nodding her head to them both as she walked past him, into the chantry.

Herah waited until she was alone before letting out a yell and a blast of magic that shook the snow from the trees. A nearby ram ran off towards Haven as she threw herself onto the ground, heedless of the icy cold that was already seeping through her trousers.

Val Royeaux had been everything she had feared and more. The judging looks, the condescending tone of both the revered mothers and Lord Seeker Lucius. Why had she expected any different? She had learned long ago that the chantry offered little for someone like her, no matter how devout. She tugged angrily at the few sprouts of grass that had pushed their way up through the ice.

‘Herald?’

She jumped at the voice, spinning around to find Cullen standing uncertainly a dozen paces away. She grimaced.

‘Did you hear the yell?’

‘Actually, I felt the magic,’ he said, coming a bit closer. He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Is everything… Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine. Just venting some frustration,’ she said, pushing herself to her feet and brushing the snow off her trousers. He frowned and she felt herself bristle.

‘It’s okay, I have full control of my magic,’ she said, her tone cool.

‘That wasn’t… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…’ he shook his head, clearly unable to find the words and she felt the anger leave her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Val Royeaux was shitty. I came out here so I wouldn’t end up taking it out on anyone in camp.’

‘Ah.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘I can, er, I can leave if you’d like? Or do you… do you want to talk about it?’

‘There’s not much to say,’ she said, gesturing for him to fall in beside her, as she started making the slow trek back to the town. ‘I imagine Cassandra has already provided you with the full report. I suppose at least we have an invite from the mages now.’

Her lip curled, and Cullen glanced at her in surprise.

‘I would have thought you’d be happy to get an invite from the reb– From the mages?’

‘Because I’m a mage?’ She didn’t wait for him to answer, waving her hand impatiently. ‘I don’t actually disagree with the concept behind the circle. Magic is dangerous. Mages need to be taught how to control it, and they need to be subject to the same laws and restrictions as the rest of the populace. I don’t agree with imprisoning them, but I’ve spoken to a few of the circle mages around the camp. That doesn’t sound like their experience.’

‘Did you… How were you trained?’

‘My mother trained me.’ She glanced at him, noting the slight downward turn of his lips.

‘Have you ever seen a saarebas, Commander? It’s what the qun call their mages.’

‘I… Once,’ Cullen admitted. ‘It is not… I would not wish that fate on anyone.’

She nodded.

‘My mother’s parents smuggled her out of the qun when they realised she had magic. She was raised by a mercenary band with a circle-trained mage. When I was born, my parents actually approached the chantry, but the revered mother for the village was…’ she hesitated, fishing for a suitably diplomatic word, ‘…traditional and as qunari, they were refused entry. My mother did the only thing she could; she taught me how to control my magic and defend myself. When I was old enough I joined the Valo-Kas and honed my magic for battle.’ She stopped and held Cullen’s gaze as she added, ‘I haven’t lost control of my magic in more than ten years, I’m not about to start now.’

He met her gaze, before nodding.

‘I believe you,’ he said, turning back to the path. She bit back a smile.

‘So, you disagree with the rebellion?’ Cullen said, as they continued onwards.

‘You hear stories. Templars abusing their power, that sort of thing. In my experience, that happens everywhere. The wrong sort of person gets given just enough authority and bad things happen. From what I have heard, the chantry didn’t address the abuses as they should have done, and I do believe that once they have demonstrated control of their magic, mages should be allowed to do what they will. Within the bounds of the law of course.’

She glanced at the commander, who was clenching his jaw.

‘You disagree?’ she asked.

‘I have seen the danger that mages pose.’

She nodded in understanding.

‘Kirkwall was a cess pit. I stopped by there once on a job, took a week of bathing to get the unclean feeling off my skin. But it’s not just mages. Mages are just people, like everyone else. They can pose a danger, yes, but so can a soldier who’s overconfident in his weapon. Mages are just people and people can do horrific things, but magic is scary because ordinary people don’t know how to stop it.’

‘I… see your point.’

‘But you don’t agree? I understand. As a templar, you have been trained to see magic as a threat.’

‘It’s more than that.’

She looked at him considering.

‘Yes. I can see that. Perhaps you will tell me about it sometime.’

‘I would prefer not.’

She nodded. ‘We all have stories we’d prefer to remain buried.’

Cullen glanced at her questioningly and she gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘Perhaps someday we’ll exchange tales,’ she said. ‘For now, and in summary, I believe that some reform was needed, but I condone the violence on both sides. To act without consideration of the consequences on innocents is reprehensible.’

‘A very pragmatic approach.’

‘I like to think so.’

Cullen growled in frustration.

‘You there! You’ve got a shield, block with it!’

The soldier in question grimaced, raising his shield arm as his sparring partner brought his blade down on it. The resounding crash reverberated around the practice ground.

‘Keeping the troops busy, I see?’

He looked up in surprise to see the Herald beside him, her white blonde hair shifting gently in the breeze as she observed the soldiers training.

‘You’re building a good group of men.’

‘I could say the same. The Chargers should be an asset to the Inquisition.’

She tensed beside him, and he turned to her, raising an eyebrow. She sighed.

‘The leader, Iron Bull, is Ben Hassrath.’

‘Ah.’ He’d been aware of course, but he hadn’t made the connection. ‘I would have thought you’d appreciate having another qunari around?’

Adaar gave a soft snort, that was drowned out by another clash of weapons.

‘Ah, but I’m not qunari. I’m Tal Vashoth, as he has gone to pains to point out.’

He could just make out a muscle twitching in her jaw line, and decided silence was the best policy.

‘Do you know what it’s like to feel like a complete outsider?’ she asked suddenly. ‘Everywhere I go in Ferelden people stare at me like I’m some sort of circus freak. They’re either convinced I’m going to convert them to the qun or they assume I’m too stupid to bother with. I’ve heard the term ox-man about once a day on average since I got here. Nobody bothers to keep their voice down, because everybody assumes that I won’t know what they’re talking about. It’s even worse in Orlais. There they just assume I’m someone’s pet.’

Cullen blinked, not sure what to say. To his horror, he realised her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

‘When I was with the Valo-Kas it wasn’t so bad. We mostly ran jobs up north, where people are slightly less ignorant, and even when we were down south, at least we had each other. I haven’t seen another qunari in months, and the first one I do see has the audacity to tell me that just because I don’t buy into their damn cult that I’m not a true qunari after all!’

She bit her lip, suddenly aware that they were in the middle of the training ground, although Cullen doubted anyone else had heard her tirade. She wiped at her eyes angrily.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to give you a lecture.’

Cullen let out a low chuckle, as much from relief as anything else.

‘I’m more than happy to listen to it.’

She let out a genuine laugh then, throwing her head back with a roar that made the soldiers around them jump.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, wiping the moisture from her cheeks. ‘You just looked so anxious when you said that. Anything to stop the poor woman from crying.’

‘I have two sisters. I’m quite used to seeing women crying.’

He flushed, realising how that sounded and she let out another throaty laugh.

‘Thank you, Commander,’ she said, patting him on the arm. ‘You cheered me up.’

She shot him another warm smile over her shoulder as she walked away, and he found himself grinning in response, the tips of his ears warming.


	4. Hushed Whispers

Herah sat on the bed in her hut, her back pressed against the headboard, her knees drawn to her chest as she rocked gently back and forth. Biting her lip, she pressed her forehead to her knees as she willed away the images that she knew would be burned in her memory for all her days: Leliana’s disfigured face as the demon slit her throat; Fiona, struggling to talk as red lyrium protruded from her body; Cassandra’s corpse, discarded like a ragdoll as the creatures entered the throne room…

A shudder ran through her as she gulped back another sob. She had known what was at stake, but at Redcliffe the future should she fail had been illustrated in appalling detail. Logically she knew Leliana and Cassandra were both well, Fiona too. But it had been real for her, and try as she might, she couldn’t shift the horror of it.

‘Varric.’

‘Curly! To what do I owe this pleasure?’

Cullen pursed his lips at the nickname, but made no other gesture of acknowledgement.

‘I was looking for the Herald. Have you seen her?’

The dwarf’s face shuttered immediately and Cullen bit back a sigh of frustration. He wasn’t in the mood for Varric’s misplaced protectiveness.

‘I’m worried about her,’ he said, before the dwarf could say whatever white lie he had concocted to protect his friend. ‘Nobody’s seen her since yesterday.’

Since the debrief from Redcliffe. Cullen should have been able to tell something wasn’t right then. Adaar’s face had been devoid of emotion as she listened to Leliana vent her frustration, the ticking of a small muscle the only sign of her anger. Personally, Cullen thought she’d done well to restrain herself to little more than a reminder of the mages’ crimes against the people of Redcliffe.

‘She’ll be okay, Curly,’ Varric said now, breaking him from his reverie. Cullen felt himself flushing as the dwarf watched him carefully.

‘Do you know where she is?’

‘If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. You know that.’

Cullen nodded wearily, his hand travelling to the back of his neck. Adaar was surprisingly adept at fading into the background for someone with such a strong physical presence.

‘What happened in there?’

Varric tilted his head to one side, as though considering.

‘I couldn’t really say,’ he began, holding a hand up to forestall Culen’s protests. ‘To me, Snowflake and Sparkler were sucked into the void one minute, and the next they were thrown right out again. You want the full story, you’ll need to talk to them.’

‘Sparkler? The tevinter?’

‘The one and only.’

Dorian looked up in surprise as a man he vaguely recognised as the commander of the Inquisition’s forces approached him.

‘Ser Pavus?’

‘Commander.’

‘I trust you’ve found the accommodations to your standard?’

‘To my standard? No, but they are adequate. The ambassador has been most accommodating.’

The man nodded absently, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and Dorian raised an amused eyebrow, biting back on a smirk as he waited for the man to get around to whatever he came for.

‘I wanted to talk with you about your experiences at Redcliffe. With the Herald.’

Dorian nodded, folding his arms as he assumed a more business-like position.

‘What did you want to know?’

‘The Herald… In her debrief she provided only a little information on what you saw while you were in the future. I was hoping you might be able to shed a bit more light on it.’

‘You may have to be a bit more specific.’

The commander flushed, clearly struggling to find the words and Dorian took pity on him.

‘The whole episode was… trying. It was clear that this Corypheus or whatever he calls himself, had taken over. There were rifts everywhere. Grand Enchanter Fiona, not that I should call her that any more, was found with red lyrium growing out of her body. We found your spymaster in a torture chamber. From the looks of her, she’d clearly been putting up a good fight for quite some time. She, Varric and the moody one, the Seeker, all died to buy the Herald and I time to go back once we’d defeated… Once Alexius had been killed.’

He stopped, aware the Commander was looking at him in horror.

‘Ah. I assume the Herald didn’t share any of this in her report?’

Cullen cleared his throat, visibly shaking himself.

‘No. No, those details were absent.’ He coughed again, pulling his hand through his hair. ‘Have you seen the Herald since you got back?’

Dorian felt himself flush.

‘Briefly,’ he admitted, thinking back to the conversation the day before. He felt a slight twinge of guilt as he remembered his words. While he still lamented the Herald’s decision, some distance had allowed him to acknowledge the political necessity. ‘She popped by shortly after her meeting with the advisors yesterday.’

It occurred to him that she might have come by in search of a friend, and his stomach churned uncomfortably. Even after his sharp dig, she’d still taken the time to softly ask him about Alexius.

‘Thank you, Ser Pavus,’ Cullen said wearily. He turned to go and Dorian couldn’t help calling out.

‘Commander! Is the Herald… Is she okay?’

The commander had shrugged a sad smile on his face.

‘I hope so.’

Herah took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders before approaching the training grounds.

‘Commander.’

Cullen started and turned in shock to find her less than two paces behind him.

‘Herald! I…’

‘Varric mentioned that you were looking for me,’ she prompted. She had to bite back on her smile as he rubbed his neck anxiously.

‘I… That is, yes, I, er, I wanted to check that you were… That you were well. After Redcliffe.’

Her amusement faded and she studied him for a moment, her eyes playing across his face.

‘Better,’ she said, eventually. ‘I just… I needed some time.’

Cullen nodded.

‘If you ever want to speak of it…’

‘I think this may go down as one of those memories we don’t speak of, Commander.’ She gave a weak smile to soften the blow. Her arm twitched as she briefly considered squeezing his hand but thought better of it. ‘Thank you. I… I didn’t mean to worry you.’

‘You didn’t! That is, I… Any time,’ he finished weakly, his cheeks flushing. She let out a low chuckle, nudging him gently with her shoulder as she came to stand beside him.

‘The men are in good form.’

‘Hmmm? I mean, yes! Yes they’re doing well.’

Herah allowed herself a gentle smile, the two of them lapsing into companionable silence as they watched the training formations.

She took a deep breath, trying to appear casual as she asked, ‘Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?’

His head moved fractionally as though to glance at her, but he kept his gaze resolutely forward as he replied, ‘No. I fear I made few friends there and my family’s in Ferelden.’

She nodded, her own cheeks warming. She wanted to pry further, but she could feel the tension radiating from him.

‘What about Varric?’ she asked, cursing herself for a coward. ‘He’s from Kirkwall.’

‘That he is,’ Cullen said, letting out a relieved bark of laughter. Herah bit the inside of her cheek. ‘We didn’t see much of each other, although that’s changed since we both joined the Inquisition. Apparently, I spend too much time with a serious expression on my face and it’s bad for my health.’

Herah laughed with him, trying to ignore the lingering disappointment as they chatted on until dusk fell.


	5. Sacrifice

‘No!’

The word was out before Cullen could stop it, his gaze travelling between the strange boy and Adaar. The Herald blinked at him in surprise before smiling sadly.

‘Can you get them out?’ she asked softly.

‘If we can cut a path to the tree line it might work, but what of your escape?’

She dropped her gaze, glancing at the door behind her and his chest wrenched.

‘Adaar…’

There was steel in her gaze when she raised her eyes to his and he nodded, his jaw clenched. He took a step backwards.

‘If you are to succeed, if we are to succeed, let that thing here you,’ he said. She gave him a grim smile as she reached for the staff on her back and turned to walk out of the chantry.

The first thing Adaar noticed was the cold. It seeped into her bones, chilling her from the inside out. She forced her eyes open, her heart racing as she was met by nothing but pitch black. Raising her hand, she sagged in relief at the familiar green glow. Not blind, just dark.

She pushed herself to her feet with a groan, her joints protesting. Using the dim light from the mark to guide her, she shuffled through the cave, hissing whenever her foot caught on a rock. Natural light began to seep in from the passage, and then the walls fell away, opening into a wide cavern.

‘Shit!’

She reached for her staff at the sight of the wraiths hovering by the exit. The mark flared and she dropped to her knees, grabbing her wrist as pain shot up her arm, flaring out through the wound. She watched in awe as the wraiths disintegrated before her eyes. The pain and the light dissipated as quickly as it arrived and she was left, panting in the dim light of the cavern, the husks of the wraiths a short distance away.

Clambering once more to standing, she staggered to the entrance looking around her in dismay at the snow covered landscape. She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around her bare midriff, before stepping out into the snow. Her keen eyes could just make out an orange glow in the distance and she set out towards it.

‘Commander.’

Cullen ploughed on through the snow, arms raised and back hunched against the blizzard.

‘Commander,’ Cassandra tried again, louder this time. ‘Don’t you think—?’

‘No,’ he said shortly. To her credit Cassandra simply nodded. He hadn’t appreciated how close the Seeker had grown to Adaar, but her tension had been palpable as they’d waited for the Herald to join them at the forward camp. When it had become clear she wasn’t coming, Cassandra had required no persuasion to join Cullen in the search, something he would be eternally grateful for.

They walked past the same rocky outcrop for the second time and Cullen felt some of the drive drain out of him, his chest twisting painfully. Qunari were tough, but if Adaar was still out in this… Well the odds of her survival were diminishing rapidly.

‘Look!’ Cassandra shouted, pointing to a dark mass that hadn’t been there on their last sweep of the perimeter. Cullen followed her gaze, his heart lurching as the light from the torches glinted off metal-encased horns.

‘It’s her!’ he shouted, running as best he could through the deep snow.

‘Thank the Maker,’ Cassandra breathed, as she fell on her knees beside him.


	6. From the Ashes

‘What?’

Herah gaped at the advisors as what they were saying slowly sank in. Cullen shifted uncomfortably and even Leliana looked slightly discomfited. It was obvious that they had been hoping for a more positive reaction. She looked down at her hands, her large grey hands.

‘You would trust this to a qunari?’ she asked, raising her gaze to Cassandra’s. The Seeker visibly relaxed, knowing the battle was won.

‘I would trust this to you,’ she said. There was just genuine sincerity in her words and Herah couldn’t help but feel touched by the faith the other woman placed in her. She looked down at the sword in Leliana’s hands.

‘I won’t lie to you,’ Cassandra continued. ‘I would feel nervous giving this power to anyone.’

Herah nodded, sending her friend a small smile.

‘As would I,’ she admitted. She straightened her shoulders and nodded. ‘If I am to accept this, then it will be to defeat Corypheus. He must be stopped.’

‘We will follow you, whatever you decide.’

Cullen looked up as a shadow fell across his makeshift desk. Adaar was standing there, awkwardly ringing her hands.

‘Inquisitor.’

She stiffened almost imperceptibly before giving him a teasing smile.

‘I thought we’d agreed on names, Commander?’

A shiver ran down his spine at the gentle emphasis of his title in her deep, educated voice. He grimaced apologetically to hide his confusion.

‘My apologies, Adaar. With your new position—’

‘With my new position, I’m still Adaar. Especially to my friends.’

The latter was said more as a question than a statement and he was surprised to see the slightest trace of anxiety in her gaze.

‘Of course,’ he said with a smile. She visibly relaxed, letting out a small chuckle as she looked past him to the courtyard.

‘Who knows,’ she said softly. ‘Maybe one day we’ll progress to Herah.’

He felt his cheeks flush and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘I’m sorry if you felt that… I realise we gave you little choice in taking the position. You won’t have to carry the Inquisition alone, although it must feel like it.’ Her gaze returned to him and he wished he could read her better. ‘We needed a leader and you have proven yourself.’

‘Thank you, Cullen,’ she said after a long moment. She hesitated before continuing, ‘I never thanked you, for… For finding me after Haven. Without you or Cassandra— You risked your lives to find me, when you didn’t have to.’

‘You’re the Herald of Andraste. Without you, we couldn’t have sealed the breach.’

He knew instantly that he had said the wrong thing, as her face shuttered. She smiled tightly, giving him a curt nod as she turned to leave.

‘Wait!’ He reached out and grabbed her wrist. ‘I didn’t… That is… Maker’s breath, that didn’t come out how I planned!’

She watched him carefully, her gaze inscrutable and he closed his eyes, dropping her hand to rub his neck as he gathered his thoughts.

‘You stayed behind. You could have—,’ he sighed. ‘You have shown yourself willing to sacrifice yourself for others time and again. We couldn’t… I couldn’t live with myself if we hadn’t done the same for you.’

She blinked, her eyes shining as they met his and he could have sworn he saw her gulp.

‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice husky. ‘I, er, I better go and finish my rounds.’

She smiled apologetically, backing away slowly, before turning and practically sprinting out of the courtyard. Cullen watched her go, wondering what had just happened.


	7. Correspondence

‘I believe that’s my hand again,’ Herah said smugly, pulling the pot towards her. Varric threw down his cards in disgust as Dorian chortled from behind his wine glass and Cassandra bit her lip in amusement as she turned the page on the book she was reading in the corner.

‘How do you do it? I swear, even Tiny is easier to read than you, Snowflake.’

‘Ah, well Bull was Ben Hassrath. I was trained to hide from Ben Hassrath.’

‘That’ll do it,’ Varric said, throwing his hands up in resignation. ‘I’m out. Any more losses to you and I’ll be owing money. What about you, Sparkler? You fancy a round?’

Dorian let out an indignant snort.

‘You assume the Tevinter mage will be easier to beat?’

‘Hands down, every time. Unless you want to prove me wrong?’

‘I’m happy watching you lose all your coin to our lovely Inquisitor, thank you.’

Varric shook his head sadly.

‘Ah well. At least I’ll be able to win it all back from Hawke. We making a push for the cave tomorrow?’

‘I think we’ll have to,’ Herah said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I can’t see this rain letting up anytime soon.’

‘At least you got a nice, shiny keep for the Inquisition in this rain-soaked, undead infested province,’ Dorian said, taking a sip of his wine. ‘The Commander will be overjoyed.’

‘I believe Leliana already called dibs,’ Herah said with a chuckle. ‘You’ll notice her scout seems to be running things.’

‘Oh? But the Commander appears to be sending so many missives?’ Dorian said, with a wicked smile. ‘I was sure they must be about the running of the keep.’

Herah narrowed her eyes, fighting the blush that threatened to creep up her neck. She and Cullen had maintained a sporadic correspondence while she was out in the field ever since she had complained about the requisition officers all those months ago. To begin with it had been purely professional, but it had long since fallen into friendly banter. She tried not to think about the way her heart leapt every time a scout approached her with a note.

‘Crestwood is an important province from a strategic perspective. All of my advisors have an interest in it,’ she said primly. She caught Dorian’s eye and chuckled. ‘Okay, but it’s just friendly. I think he likes having someone to moan to.’

‘And I’m sure you enjoy hearing him moan.’

Varric spluttered into his glass and Herah could feel her cheeks burning.

‘I—’

‘I’m not sure you really want to continue this line of conversation, Ser Pavus, unless you want to explain why I saw you creeping out of the Iron Bull’s quarters the morning before we left?’ Cassandra said, looking up from her book and nailing Dorian with her gaze. It was the Tevinter mage’s turn to flush red as he hid his face behind his goblet and Herah let out a delighted chuckle.

‘No!’ she exclaimed.

Dorian scowled at Cassandra, who gave him a trite smile before turning back to her novel.

‘Honestly, I’m genuinely surprised I didn’t know,’ Herah said, grinning wickedly. ‘For a trained spy, Bull is surprisingly indiscreet about his, ahem, liaisons.’

‘Yes, don’t worry about it, Sparkler,’ Varric said, patting the mage on the back. ‘I’m sure the whole of Skyhold will know by the time we get back.’

Dorian glowered, downing his wine in one glass.

‘So… What was it like?’ Varric prompted. ‘I’m going to need all the details.’

‘Oh Maker, no!’ Cassandra cried, throwing a cloth at the dwarf’s head. Herah chuckled and pushed herself to her feet.

‘I’m going to need more wine.’

Cullen put down the letter with a chuckle, a smile spreading over his face as he pictured Blackwall’s expression when he had to use the ‘wedge of destiny’. He didn’t have any issue with the warden himself, but it would appear that the man had been antagonising Herah recently. She had helpfully included a sketch of the offending shield, along with a hope that Cullen wasn’t too disappointed not to be adding the unique item to his personal armoury.

‘Tell the ambassador I will be along in about half an hour,’ he said to the waiting scout, pulling a piece of parchment towards him. Plans for the ball could wait. This was far more entertaining.

Herah was pleasantly surprised to find a letter waiting for her when she got back to camp. She had only sent the last a couple of days ago and even with Leliana’s birds, she hadn’t hoped for a response for at least another day or so. Cullen must have written his reply almost immediately.

She scanned through the missive quickly, smiling to herself as he assured her that he held not resentment about the shield and offered his sincere thanks for not having to think of a suitable excuse for not using it. She chuckled as she read his concerns that Sera may be trying to poison him, although she had to admit that receiving any sort of gift from Sera was always vaguely worrying. Reaching for a pen, she sat down and wrote a response.

He wasn’t quite sure when the post had become the highlight of his day. He dreaded the inevitable reports and queries from scouts across Ferelden and Orlais, but there was always the chance that there would be a letter from the Inquisitor and that almost made up for all of the other stuff. He rummaged through the pile on his desk quickly, searching for an envelope with that familiar elegant script, shoulder’s sagging when he reached the bottom. Nothing. It had been five days since he sent his last letter. Surely enough time for a response by now?

‘What is it?’ he snapped, not bothering to look up as his office door opened.

‘Bad time?’

His heart lurched at the familiar voice, and he looked up in surprise.

‘Adaar! I didn’t… That is, we didn’t expect you back for another week.’ He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

‘There wasn’t much point lingering in the Western Approach after the fiasco at the Ritual Tower. Hawke and Alistair have gone on to scope out Adamant Fortress. Besides,’ Herah added with a grimace, ‘Josie needed me here to prepare for the ball. Something about costume fittings.’

Cullen let out a chuckle at the expression of distaste on her face.

‘Don’t let her or Leliana see you talking like that. You’d think the outfits were the only reason we’re going to this damned ball.’

‘Ah, I can see we’re in agreement,’ Herah said with a smile, that warmed him from the inside.


	8. Wicked Hearts

Herah tugged uncomfortably at the collar of the tunic, aware of the stares and the murmurings. She shot a glance at Cullen, who looked just as uncomfortable but undoubtedly more attractive in the Inquisition’s dress uniform.

Despite her reluctance, she had been foolish enough to allow herself to get slightly excited when Josie had first mentioned the ball; Herah had never been a ‘girly’ girl, had never had the opportunity, but it had been exciting to think that she might get to be a princess, just for one night.

But no, instead it appeared that Josie and Leliana between them had concocted the most unflattering and masculine dress uniform known to Thedas. It highlighted her already broad shoulders, the bright red dulling her grey skin. Instead of an elegant lady, she felt like a hulking giant and it was taking all of her self-control to hold her head high, instead of curling in on herself as she used to as a teenager.

Another snigger sounded from the right and she clenched her jaw, fixing a broad smile on her face as she walked into the palace.

To say that Cullen was out of his comfort zone was an understatement. He felt under-dressed in the formal dress uniform that offered no protection, and the cloying gaggle of followers, male and female, that had been following him ever since he entered the palace were getting on his nerves. He looked up in relief as the Inquisitor approached. She caught his eye, offering him a sympathetic grimace on her way to schmooze with yet another member of the counsel of heralds. As she passed he became aware of a general muttering in her wake.

‘Is that the Inquisitor?’

‘An ox? Impossible!’

‘That’s not the Inquisitor, it’s just somebody’s pet.’

White hot rage flashed through him and his gaze snapped towards Adaar. She had a smile glued on her face, but she was holding herself stiffly, her back ramrod straight. There was no way she had failed to hear. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry: at the court; at Josephine for putting her in this position; at himself for not realising sooner the level of discrimination she dealt with on a daily basis.

She turned, feeling his eyes on her. His indignation must have shown, because her smile softened into something more genuine as her eyes met his and she shook her head fractionally before turning back to her conversation.

Cullen gritted his teeth, his hands clenching at his sides. It was going to be a long night.

Herah sagged against the wall of the balcony as Celene’s new advisor to the Inquisition wandered off to join the crowds, or pack, or whatever one did when one was due to be sent halfway across Thedas. Time would tell with Morrigan: it was clear she and Leliana had history, and Herah hadn’t decided if she could trust the arcane advisor, but it did no harm to play nice for now.

‘There you are.’

She stiffened in surprise, before looking back over her shoulder with a smile.

‘Josephine was looking for you,’ Cullen said as he came to lean on the wall beside her. Herah suppressed a sigh: her ambassador was over the moon with how the evening had gone. No doubt she wanted to drag her off to meet some other Orlesian noble or dignitary.

‘I told her I thought I saw you heading towards the gardens.’

Herah glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. There was just the faintest of smiles hovering over his lips.

‘Lying to our ambassador now, Commander?’ she asked giving him a playful nudge.

‘She’ll survive. I don’t know about you, but I have had enough Orlesian politics to last a lifetime!’ He sobered, shifting so that his whole body was facing her. ‘I was worried about you tonight.’

Her breath caught, suddenly very aware of his proximity as her eyes played across his face.

‘I would have thought you’d be more worried about the nobles,’ she joked, trying to relieve the tension. Cullen didn’t laugh.

‘Is it always like that?’ he asked. She felt herself flush, ducking her head to escape his gaze.

‘Not always.’ She shrugged. ‘You get used to it.’

He was still watching her when she glanced up and she could tell he wasn’t buying it. For a moment she thought he would press the matter, but then he stepped away from the wall, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile that made her heart race.

‘I may never get—’

He broke off as Josephine walked onto the balcony.

‘There you are!’ she said. She stopped a couple of paces from the door, her gaze travelling between the two of them. She blanched when she landed on Cullen and Herah followed her look, amused to see him glowering at the ambassador on her behalf.

‘Sorry, Josie, I just needed some fresh air,’ she said, pushing herself up with an effort. ‘What did you need me for?’

‘I…’ the ambassador collected her thoughts with an effort. ‘The empress wished to speak to you before we depart.’

‘Then I guess we better see what Celene wants,’ Herah replied, shooting an apologetic smile at Cullen, who was still glowering. She gave his arm an apologetic squeeze as she walked past, not noticing the droop of his shoulders as she followed Josephine back into the ballroom.


	9. Perseverance

‘NO!’

Cullen’s eyes snapped open in the darkness, his body shaking, his skin cold and damp against the linen sheets. He stared blankly at the hole in his ceiling as the last vestiges of the dream left him, his breathing harsh and ragged. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He sagged against the hard mattress as the last of the tension left him, leaving him drained. He had thought he was getting the better of his demons, but the dreams had increased in both intensity and ferocity since Halamshiral. He shivered as a soft breeze chilled him. There was no sense lying in bed; sleep would not return now.

He pushed himself up, his muscles heavy and aching and stumbled across to the washbasin that stood in the corner. He hissed as the icy water hit his face and trickled down his chest, but it took the last tendrils of sleep with it, and for that he was grateful. Pulling on his casual clothes, he slid down the ladder and out onto the battlements.

Herah paid little attention to where her feet were taking her as she meandered slowly along the wall. The guards on duty were used to her night time wanderings by now, barely sparing her a glance as she moved past them, horns glinting in the moonlight. She idly wondered if Leliana would be appalled at the lack of security, although, in their defence, she imagined she was quite hard to imitate.

She rounded the corner, pulling up short as she saw the figure leaning against the parapet.

‘Cullen?’

He flinched at her voice but didn’t turn to face her.

‘Inquisitor.’

She paused.

‘Is everything okay, Commander?’ she asked, carefully to not step any closer to him. He sighed, his head sagging between his shoulders.

‘I… No,’ he said, turning to face her. His eyes were red and swollen, underlined by deep shadows.

‘Cullen…’ she said, taking a careful step towards him and then another. Her heart yearned to reach out and hold him but she held back, not wishing to invade his space.

‘Bad dreams?’ she asked tentatively. He nodded and she pursed her lips, casting around for inspiration, something, anything that would help. Eventually she moved to the wall, leaning with her back against it, careful to keep a couple of paces between them, her gaze travelling out over Skyhold.

‘When I was younger, I was captured by Ben Hassrath agents.’ She felt Cullen look at her, but she kept her gaze on the horizon. ‘It was one of my first jobs for the Valo-Kas. They’d received a tip about a job and I’d been sent with one of the seniors, to provide cover if needed.’

A stone was digging into her back and she shifted, alleviating the pressure.

‘It was a trap. The Ben Hassrath usually left the Valo-Kas alone. We weren’t causing any trouble for the qun and a lot of the work we picked up was actually dealing with Tal Vashoth bands who were. They were little more than thugs for hire; doing anything for an easy coin. We were happy to eradicate them and the Ben Hassrath were happy to have them eradicated. There was an uneasy truce.

‘Apparently that didn’t extend to Vashoth mages. Turns out they’d posed as a client, specifically interested in our magical ability. When we got there it was an ambush. We were both captured.’

She took in a ragged breath, looking down at her hands, where pale scars glimmered faintly in the starlight.

‘They wanted me for the qun. To become saarebas. But first, they had to break me. I… I’d prefer not to go into the details. The Ben Hassrath are incredibly good at what they do. They used everything at their disposal, including—’ Her voice broke and she swallowed thickly. ‘Including Kashoth, the senior I was accompanying. He… What they did to him—’

She closed her eyes, fighting tears.

‘I don’t know what I would have done if Shokrakar and Kaariss hadn’t come for me. I.. I don’t remember much of the rescue. I just remember waking in a bed, in a new camp several days later. It’s been years, and I still… Well, I don’t think it will ever leave me. Not truly.’

She fell quiet, the silence stretching out between them like a chasm. Just as it became unbearable, Cullen spoke.

‘Ferelden’s circle was taken over by abominations,’ he said, so quietly she almost missed it. He pushed himself up and continued, louder, ‘The templars, my friends, were slaughtered.

‘I was tortured. They tried to break my mind, and I— How can you be the same person after that?’ His eyes met hers, pleading with her and she shook her head, her chest twisting painfully.

‘You can’t,’ she said. She reached out to place a hand on his arm but he shook her off.

‘Still, I wanted to serve,’ he said, beginning to pace backwards and forwards on the spot. ‘They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my knight-commander and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall’s circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?’

She was silent, her eyes following him as he paced.

‘I thought this would be better, without lyrium. That I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won’t leave me… How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause. I will not give less to the inquisition than I did the chantry. I should be taking it. I should be taking it!’

He punched the wall, and Herah winced in sympathy at the impact. Stepping forward she took his hand in both of hers.

‘This is about your decision to give up lyrium?’ she asked gently. Pleading eyes found hers as he nodded. She swallowed, looking over his shoulder.

‘If it weren’t for the Inquisition, would you be considering it?’ she asked, eventually, her gaze returning to study his face.

‘I… No.’

She nodded, bringing a tentative hand up to cup his cheek.

‘I know how hard this is. Believe me. But you can’t continue using the lyrium as a bandage… If you do, well, it may never go away. Stay off the lyrium, and eventually the wound will heal. The scars… The scars never fade, not completely, but I promise you it does get better.’

He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath.

‘Thank you,’ he said. Herah gave a him a soft smile as she released him, taking a step back.

‘Anytime.’


	10. After the Abyss

Cullen frowned at the figure of the Inquisitor as she sat at the head of the column that led back to Skyhold. She’d barely said two words to anybody since they had left Adamant. Now she rode out in front, her posture rigid. He watched as Cassandra spurred her horse forward, urging it into a canter until she came up alongside Herah. There was a muffled conversation, and a shake of a horned head and Cassandra pulled up, concern plain on her face. He wasn’t surprised when she allowed her horse to fall in alongside his.

‘You need to talk to her,’ she said, without any preamble. Cullen looked at her in disbelief and she shrugged. ‘She will not talk to me, or Dorian. But she may open up to you.’

He followed the Seeker’s gaze, watching as Adaar spurred her horse into a gallop, pulling away from the group.

‘What happened?’ he asked. Cassandra shrugged, a frown tugging at her brow.

‘I am not sure. Perhaps Warden Alistair will be able to provide some answers.’

Cullen sighed and nodded.

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Alistair looked up in surprise as the Commander approached. He was pretty certain that the man recognised him from their shared experience at the Ferelden Circle, but if he did, he had made no allusion to it. If Alistair hadn’t known better, he would have said he had been avoiding him.

‘Commander,’ he said. The man nodded politely, his expression closed.

‘Grey Warden.’

Alistair could see the man fishing around for something else to say, before clearly deciding to do away with the pleasantries of small talk.

‘What happened? When you were in the Fade?’

He blinked, eyes travelling involuntarily to the front of the column, where the distant figure of the Inquisitor could still be seen.

‘If the Inquisitor hasn’t told you—’

‘The Inquisitor hasn’t spoken to anybody since we left Adamant. I need to know why. What happened?’

Alistair let out a small huff.

‘Fine,’ he said. He pulled up allowing the rest of the grey wardens to go ahead of him until they were at the back of the crowd. ‘I assume Lady Cassandra has filled you in on everything up to the nightmare?’

Cullen nodded, and Alistair nodded, trying to think where to start.

‘After the others left, the nightmare made a resurgence…’

Herah sat on the broken battlement, oblivious to the chill night air as she stared blankly at the mountains stretched out before her. A gentle breeze buffeted her, raising the hairs on her arms, and she pulled her knees in tighter to her, tears streaming down her face.

Talking to Varric had been easier than expected. Somehow the news had reached him already and she had little to do but let him talk, holding him when he needed it. He hadn’t blamed her and she didn’t have it in her to relieve him of that notion. She was sure he would, eventually. He should.

She was still disgusted with herself at how easy the decision had been to make. Alistair was the logical choice; the wardens needed a leader. She had made her choice and now she had to live with the consequences.

A small choked sob left her and she bit her lip, her eyes burning with fresh tears.

‘Herah?’

She stilled at the sound of Cullen’s voice, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the sound of her crying. She didn’t turn as he approached, kneeling down on the stone beside her.

‘Alistair told me. About what happened in the Fade. About… About what he and Hawke made you do.’

Her chest constricted painfully and another sob escaped her lips. She bit down hard on her palm as her shoulders shook. She would have given anything to keep Cullen from knowing the truth, from knowing what she’d done.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he continued. ‘You never should have been placed in that position but you… You made the right call.’

Herah was visibly shaking now, her muscles trembling from the effort of holding in her tears. She took in a great, shuddering breath that ended on a hiccough. Cullen placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, tugging her gently towards him and she broke, flinging her arms around him with a muffled cry.

She buried her face into his neck, hot tears soaking his shoulder as he gently stroked her back, crooning softly.

‘It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.’


	11. Lucky Charm

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Cullen said, knocking over his pen holder as he stood hurriedly from beside his desk. Herah looked at him in amusement.

‘Something I can help with?’

‘No. I mean, yes. That is—’ He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I, er, I have something for you.’

She tilted her head to one side, inviting him to continue as he rounded the desk to stand in front of her. He reached into his pocket pulling out the coin that had kept him grounded for so many years.

‘My brother gave me this, the day I left for templar training. It just happened to be in his pocket, but he said it was for luck. Templars aren’t supposed to carry such things, our faith should see us through.’

‘You broke the order’s rules? I’m shocked.’

Herah smiled, although there was something deeper lurking in her gaze as it played across his face. He felt his cheeks warm under the scrutiny.

‘Until a year ago I was very good at following them. Most of the time. This was the only thing I took from Ferelden that the templars didn’t give me.’ He swallowed hard and took her hand, wrapping her fingers around the coin with his own. ‘Humour me. We don’t know what you’ll face before the end. This can’t hurt.’

Herah bit her lip as she looked down at their hands.

‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice husky. Her eyes were glistening as they found his. ‘I’ll keep it safe.’

Cullen flushed, and he cleared his throat.

‘Good,’ he said, dropping her hand as he took a step back. ‘I know it’s foolish but… I’m glad.’

He smiled awkwardly and her lips curved tentatively in return.

‘Was there something you needed?’ he said, retreating back behind his desk before he did something foolish.

‘Oh! Um, yes. Josie wanted to see us in the war room. We think we know where Samson is hiding.’

‘I’ll be along shortly.’

‘Quite a sight, isn’t she?’ Bull said appreciatively, sheathing his axe as he came to stand next to the Commander. Herah was whirling gracefully, her staff moving in sequence with her spirit blade, muscles rippling under smooth skin as she decapitated the last of the demons infesting the Shrine of Dumat. Cullen visibly shook himself.

‘What?’

Bull smirked.

‘The Boss,’ he said, pointing. ‘She certainly knows how to handle herself.’

Cullen tensed and Bull could have sworn he heard the man growl. The commander’s knuckles were white where he clutched the hilt of his sword. Oh, this was too easy.

Dorian wandered over to them, levelling him with a look.

‘What?’ Bull said, raising his hands defensively. ‘Window shopping is allowed.’

Cullen looked between the two of them, his cheeks flushing a deep red. Bull’s smirk deepened, as he opened his mouth to goad the commander further.

‘Thanks for the help,’ Varric said wryly, interrupting them as he and Adaar approached.

‘Oh, you looked like you had everything under control.’

The dwarf made a disgusted noise that Cassandra would have been proud of and the Boss rolled her eyes.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We still need to find out what Corypheus has hidden here.’

Bull winked at Dorian with his good eye as the two of them nudged the Commander into action, following the Inquisitor out of the room.

Herah drummed her fingers on the arm of the throne, looking down at the man before her. She could feel Cullen’s gaze burning on the back of her neck, but she resisted the urge to look at him. She knew better than most just what this man meant to him.

Her head told her that Samson would be a useful asset to the Inquisition if handled properly, but that would mean keeping him on site. It was obvious that he brought up memories Cullen would prefer to forget, and her heart rebelled at the thought of bringing him additional pain.

She leaned forward, her decision made.

‘Samson you are a traitor and a murderer. Kirkwall’s leaders will decide your fate.’

She watched as the guards led him out of the hall. Doubtless Leliana would disapprove, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The grateful look Cullen had shot her as he followed Samson out was all the proof she needed that she had made the right choice.


	12. A Prayer for You

Herah stood nervously at the door to the small chapel.

‘A prayer for you?’ she asked softly as Cullen finished his prayer. He started at her voice, hesitating before replying.

‘For those we have lost. And those I am afraid to lose.’

‘You’re afraid?’ she asked, moving into the room as he clambered to his feet.

‘Of course I am! Corypheus possessed that Grey Warden at Mythal. What more is he capable of? It’s only a matter of time before he retaliates. We must draw strength wherever we can.’ His gaze found hers and her breath caught at the despair she found lurking there. ‘When the time comes, you will be thrown into his path again. I—’

He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away from her. Herah summoned her courage and stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm to pull his gaze back to hers.

‘I have luck on my side, remember?’

He let out a low chuckle. ‘That’s less comforting than I hoped.’

He glanced down at her hand, still on his arm and she snatched it away, the blood rushing to her cheeks.

‘I… I have something for you,’ she said haltingly, reaching into her pocket. She pressed the amulet into his palm and he studied the roughly hewn tooth, his eyes holding a question as they met hers.

‘It’s a qunari tradition,’ she said hastily. ‘If… When I return, I’ll explain it to you.’

He nodded, watching her uncertainly and she took an awkward step back, turning to leave the chapel.

‘Herah,’ he called after her. She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Thank you. And… good luck.’

She nodded, her lips curling into a sad smile, before walking off to meet her fate.

Cullen paced the courtyard anxiously, waiting for any news of the Inquisitor’s party. The temple that had risen ominously into the air just hours before had crashed to the ground but there had been no reports from the ground team. Bull and the other members of the Inner Circle not part of the Inquisitor’s party were standing with him, the tension palpable.

‘They’ll be okay. The Boss is made of sterner stuff,’ Bull said, almost to himself. Cullen nodded absently before catching sight of a familiar dragon’s tooth pendant on his chest.

‘That amulet. Did Her— Did the Inquisitor give it to you?’ he asked. Bull looked down at the pendant in surprise, giving a loud chuckle.

‘The Boss? No, we never—’ he broke off Cullen’s hand twitched involuntarily to the cord hanging around his own neck and his eye widened. ‘She gave you one? The Boss?’

Cullen flushed and Bull let out a delighted chuckle.

‘So you two finally…?’ Cullen looked at him blankly and Bull opened his mouth and then closed it again. ‘What did she tell you? When she gave it to you?’ he asked carefully.

‘She said she would explain it when she got back,’ Cullen said, torn between embarrassment and irritation. Bull pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘She didn’t expect to come back,’ he muttered, looking away. Cullen felt a stab of fear pierce his chest.

‘What?’

The qunari shifted, looking down at Cullen.

‘The only reason she would give you that without you knowing what it means is if she didn’t expect to come back.’

‘What is it, Bull?’ Cullen all but growled.

‘Damn it, Adaar!’ The qunari looked up at the sky as though seeking guidance. He appeared to reach a decision as he turned to face Cullen.

‘It’s a matching set. A dragon’s tooth split in two, so that no matter where you are, you’re always together.’

Cullen’s heart wrenched.

‘Dorian gave me mine,’ Bull added, in case the meaning wasn’t clear enough already. Cullen nodded, muttering a thank you as he prayed even more fervently for her return.

The sound of cheering as they stepped into the courtyard was deafening but Herah had only one thing on her mind as she looked around desperately. There was a muffled yell from the back and the crowd parted, roughly elbowed out of the way as Cullen pushed himself to the front. Her face broke into a wide grin, her heart leaping at the sight of him.

‘I told you—’

The words were stolen from her mouth as he crashed his lips to hers, pulling her into a crushing hug, oblivious to the whistles and catcalls of those around them.

‘About bloody time!’ someone, probably Sera, called, to general cheering.

Herah let out a soft chuckle before pulling her commander in for another kiss.


	13. Epilogue

Cullen propped himself up on the pillow, smiling softly as he watched Herah sleep, the morning sun glinting off her horns. He reached out a tentative hand, running a thumb along the sensitive skin at the base. Herah let out a soft moan, peering up at him blearily.

‘What time is it?’ she asked with a yawn.

‘Almost noon.’

She pushed herself up, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, pulling her on top of him. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of this feeling: the softness of her skin against his; the soft pressure of her breasts against his chest; her strong legs wrapped around his hips.

‘We should get up,’ she said, although her voice held little conviction as she smiled down at him.

‘Hmmm,’ he hummed, leaning up to plant soft kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. He smirked as she shivered beneath him, her skin raising in goosebumps.

‘That’s a strong argument,’ she murmured, tilting her head back to give him better access. Violet eyes met his. ‘But Josephine we kill us both if we’re late for the banquet.’

His lips found a dark nipple and she let out a soft mewling sound as he lathed it with his tongue, before sucking it into his mouth.

‘There will be… other mornings,’ she managed, her back arching slightly.

‘There will.’

It wasn’t quite a question but it certainly wasn’t a statement and she looked up at him in surprise, her mouth curling into a smile as she saw the uncertainty in his gaze.

‘I was certainly planning on it,’ she said, pulling him down into a tender kiss. Her gaze held his. ‘I love you.’

It took Cullen a moment to process what she said. A warmth blossomed in his chest spreading to every corner of his being, breaking out in his face as a smile that told her everything she needed to know.

‘I love you too.’

She grinned at him, drawing him into another kiss.

‘We really should get up,’ she said reluctantly when they eventually parted.

‘You are the guest of honour, kadan,’ he said, rolling them both so that he was leaning above her. She stilled beneath him in astonishment, before letting out a low chuckle.

‘Remind me to thank Bull later.’

Cullen smirked, and ducked his head, little kisses along her collarbone before working his way slowly down her body. Herah writhed beneath him, her hands carding through his hair as he paused at the top of her mons, his eyes twinkling.

‘You’re right,’ he said, pushing himself off her. ‘We really should get up.’

Herah let out a growl, throwing herself at him and pulling him back onto the bed. Forever could wait, but so could the banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. Thanks for reading!:)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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